Because every kicky housewife needs a blog

Dear pre-baby self

It’s not that serious. Whatever you think it is right now, I promise you, it’s not. No, I’m not going into the whole, “When you have a child you realize what’s important, she is the future, she will rule with an iron fist and a Care Bear heart.” No. I’m saying that it’s not that serious because you will learn that what seems serious now is something to laugh at later. Time starts to fly once that little one comes. You literally have no time to consider what is serious and what is not. Right now you’re seven weeks into a life time of, “How is time going by so quickly?!”

Life has become a series of, “Ok, what’s next?” instead of, “Ok, I have this much time before the next thing starts.” Is one way better than the other? I’m not so sure. I look back on your days and become somewhat jealous. You got to go shopping without having to worry about car seats and stranger danger. You got to sleep in on the weekends without care. You got to cook dinners and meals all the time without having a little ball of fury scream for your attention five minutes after you put them down after holding them for hours. You got to. You got to. You got to. Rocking in a chair for hours on end nursing while watching Teen Mom 2 makes me reminisce on my pre-baby life, your life.

I then remember that you sat longingly on the couch watching Teen Mom 2 wondering if you would ever get your chance of having a baby and making much better choices than the girls on the television. I remember crying at the thought that someone somewhere in the universe may have decided that wasn’t in the cards for you. I remember being devastated when you had a taste of the dream for three days and then life took it from you both. I remember yearning to be the mom in the store with a baby in a carrier on her front because you could feel the phantom warmth of a head on your chest. I remember it all.

The grass is always greener. Am I right pre-baby self? You are just going through it though. This is a stage of life, much like right now is a stage of life. Seven weeks with a little on who changes literally every day isn’t that long in the long run. Although, seven weeks feels like 700 right now. She will get bigger, she will learn how to talk and walk, she will get cooler. Me and Tim will actually hold each other again someday. I will probably think of a letter much like this to baby Amy when she goes off to college. I will look back at these stages and look back on what my life was filled with, and hopefully not look for what was missing.

Yes, pre-baby Amy I feel you are one lucky bastard right now because it’s been seven weeks and last night was the actual first night I got more than four hours of sleep in seven weeks. Soak in the times alone and celebrate the times you were surrounded by friends without the worry if your packed the correct burp clothes and extra pacifiers in the diaper bag. Relish in the idea that your body may not be perfect but you can take the time to work on it without the worry about taking time for yourself. Be selfish. Once that little one is placed in your arms, all selfishness has to go out the window. Drink the wine and go to dinner with Tim as often as possible. You will get the best gift of your entire life eventually, but don’t rush so much to get there. And always remember, if the girls on Teen Mom 2 can do it, so can you. Don’t worry.

I hope these words help ease your anxiety about starting a family and that one day you did in fact take it all in and appreciate the life around you. Eva is probably the most beautiful being in your life, but she’ll be here when you’re ready. Trust yourself, trust the universe, and trust that life will be that. Life. Crazy, uncontrollable, tear inducing, and wonderful, simply wonderful.